


grind me down

by remorsefulrobot



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, More tags to be added, blood tw, i'll add more characters as i go too, it gets. a little saucy during ch 1 but i promise it wont happen again, vomit tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 16:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remorsefulrobot/pseuds/remorsefulrobot
Summary: Set right after chapter four.Sal is in the crook of his thoughts, and Travis is his last chance.





	grind me down

**Author's Note:**

> so ya here i am again!  
> i'm going to work on this fic rather than emotions, as emotions didn't have much of a set storyline, and any and all motivation i could have had for emotions was drained when sal and larry became stepbrothers. i dont particularly care if you still ship salarry, but dont expect me to update emotions anymore. i really do appreciate each and every comment you guys gave me, though! it really helps to motivate me to work on things i can be truly happy with. so now, i give you something that i'm much more comfortable writing and something i think you guys will really like.

_"I hereby sentence Sal Fisher to receive capital punishment."_

Who knew one sentence could turn a room ice cold in seconds? Travis Phelps leaned back in his pew, his arms folded as he watched the scene play out before him. He vaguely heard Ashley Campbell stand up, likely in protest. He was too lost in thought to pay attention or even really care. All according to plan, he thinks to himself, his eyes falling onto the masked murderer. He hadn't reacted at all. He was still just staring ahead blankly. That's when their eyes met, Sal's cold blue eyes staring straight into his, sending shivers down Travis's spine. It was almost as if he knew.

They all- well, all except Ashley, left in an orderly fashion, murmuring opinions and small talk between them. He gave insincere condolences to Maple, whose husband and child had been in the building the night that Sal attacked the apartments, and to Neil, Todd Morrison's old... boyfriend. The thought made him sick to his stomach, but he swallowed it down to look polite. Homosexuality was absolutely unnatural, he thought to himself in disgust, sneaking one last glance at Sal before leaving.

Sal Fisher. That name struck a disgusting type of yearning in his heart. Years had passed and so much had happened, but Travis still found himself thinking back to his old classmate often.

He knew exactly why, and it made him want to vomit.

Travis Phelps was a gay man. He'd always find himself attracted to men rather than women, despite what the Bible, and his father, had taught him. Oh, lord, how his father taught him. He couldn't count how many times he'd heard that gays were of the devil, how God would never love them, etc. Each and every "lesson", filled with unbridled hatred, had been drilled into Travis's skull.

Travis tried to be good. He'd become a pastor as soon as he could. He prayed every morning and every night, before every meal, and just about whenever he felt the urge to. His trusted cross was almost always around his neck. He kept a Bible in his car, in his home, and in his desk at work. He was terrified that God's love would run out and he would be left to rot as a filthy sinner for eternity.

That's why he joined the Devourers. He was going to do whatever it took to let God's love shine down on him. If he proved that there was much eviler in the world than he, surely God would realize and understand. They happily accepted him, of course. He was a pastor for the local church and an influential one at that. It was all the more power to them, and as Travis himself had put it, they would have been foolish not to allow him in.

He'd been sent to watch the trial in person and to testify if needed, but now, as he drove home, he wished he hadn't been there at all. Sal had always been difficult to push out of his thoughts, even during high school, and just thinking about what could have been was driving him mad.

There was no "what could have been". This was God's plan and that was that. His disgusting fantasies were just that- fantasies. He felt filthy thinking about it.

As soon as he got home, he took a long, hot shower.

He still felt dirty when he stepped out.

/ / / /

Three years had passed and Travis had become a busy man. The Devourers were planning their next move. His father had died and he had taken over the ministry. He'd finally forced himself to get a girlfriend, only to break up with her shortly afterward, telling himself, and his Lord, that he would try again when he was ready.

He still caught himself pining for his enemy, his self-hatred growing each time his name was mentioned or when he was snapped out of some fantastical daydream. He hated feeling like that with everything he had. Why couldn't he just be normal?

It all peaked on the night of Sal Fisher's death. The Devourers held a celebration in its honor, giving thanks to the Red Eyes and furthering their discussion on what they planned to do next. Travis celebrated with them, in hopes that this would finally rid him of his disgusting feelings towards the murderer.

He later learned, tossing and turning in his bed, that it did not.

Sleep finally came to him hours after he had laid down. Travis welcomed it relievedly.

In his dream, he found himself pinning someone to his bed, lips pressing together over and over in a heated frenzy. A hand was tangled in his hair and his hand was gripping an arm, holding it tightly. Teeth lightly bit Travis's lower lip, teasing him, and everything in this moment just felt so right.

He had to see their face. He pulled away from them, slowly opening his eyes.

Sal Fisher lay under him, eyes half-lidded and his lips slightly parted. His heavily-scarred face was tinted a light pink, and his long, blue hair fanned out underneath him. Travis couldn't help but feel satisfied that he still remembered what Sal looked like under his prosthetic. Beautiful was the only word Travis could think of. He couldn't have cared less if it was wrong. After all, it was just a dream, right..? He couldn't control it. If he remembered it in the morning, he'd atone for it accordingly. Hungrily, he kissed Sal again, rolling so that Sal was on top of him this time around. His sins danced on his lips, a sweet-tasting reminder of what he was doing, but Travis didn't care. All he could think of was Sal. He had been so stupid not to tell him when he had the chance. Travis's hands slid down to Sal's waist, smirking when Sal pulled away again. Travis's expression quickly changed, however, when he looked up to Sal. Sal's face was completely blank as if he had simply shut down. Sal's eyes bored into his, and Travis wasn't even sure if he was breathing.

Worriedly, Travis started to speak, "Is everything alri-"

Sal's body convulsed, and then all at once, Sal vomited. It wasn't bile, however, but blood. The thick, coppery liquid quickly invaded all of Travis's senses. He could taste it, feeling it rush down his throat, and he could definitely smell it. He was completely frozen, unable to do anything but feel the heavy liquid hit him in a seemingly neverending stream.

It was all just a dream, right? He couldn't control it. All he could do was beg to wake up.

Travis shot up in an instant, finally released from the clutches of sleep. His hand flew up to his mouth, feeling for the sticky feeling of blood, but there was none. Yet, he could still smell it. The coppery taste was still in the back of his throat.

Travis felt like he was going to vomit as well.

**Author's Note:**

> "travis: buenos dias sal (smacks his ass)  
> sal, fucking convulsing blood:  
> steve: gabry"
> 
> \- my good friend kai


End file.
